


Fear Inside of Me

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 18:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Erestor takes issue when he hears Fingon use a pet name with someone else.





	Fear Inside of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I will learn not to post things out of order, darlings. Today is not that day. I had help from AnnEllspethRaven in finding a suitable title - thank you! <3
> 
> Working title: What Makes You Beautiful

“If you want to bring the laundry back next week, that would be fine,” said Fingon. “I know there is a lot of it this week. We stripped all of the guest beds and there were extra towels - well, you can see that,” he realized as he carried another bundle to the cart that was already half-full. Erestor hoisted another parcel into the cart before he took the one Fingon held and tossed it in with the others.

Tannarië patted the neck of one of the mules hitched to the cart. “I should be done by the day after tomorrow. You will have everything back promptly. If you are not awake yet, I will just let myself in and drop it off if that is alright with you.”

Fingon repositioned the bundles so that they were better balanced in the cart. “Thank you, Tannarië. You are beautiful. I really appreciate it. Good job with the kitchen, too,” he added. Not long ago, it was discovered that a lot of take was taken for domestic tasks, and even apprentices at the school had occasional maids or at the very least someone to do a few chores around the house. After much discussion, the mutual decision was made to hire someone who could come by once a week to pick up laundry, the most hated of all of the tasks in the house. The question of who was solved by asking others if they had recommendations, and it so happened that Tannarië, the fishmonger they spoke with and purchased items from on a weekly basis was quite an efficient washwoman as well. In fact, she would see her husband off in the early morning, wash while he was fishing, and be at the shore when he arrived back with his catch for her to sell. While she went to market, he took the laundry home and hung it to dry. When she returned at night, they would fold it together.

This arrangement gave Glorfindel additional time to pursue his craft, for he was able to sell his paintings to tourists at the market, and the profits more than covered the cost of the extra household help. This eventually led to the idea of paying Tannarië a bit more to spend an afternoon per week tidying up while Glorfindel painted. Glorfindel was glad for the company, Tannarië was glad for the coin, and Fingon quite enjoyed that no one asked him to dust anything anymore. 

Tannarië nodded. “Of course. Which shirt needs mending?”

“This one here. I left it out.” Fingon pulled the sleeve of a red shirt up so that Tannarië could see where it was. “There is a tear in the arm where I caught it on a raspberry thorn.”

“I will be sure to take care of that before I wash it.” Tannarië took hold of a rope tied loosely around the neck of one of the mules and began to lead them down the path. “Have a nice day, Fingon.”

Fingon turned around, and found himself alone. He watched to be sure Tannarië’s cart did not get stuck in a rut in the road before he entered the house. Fingon shut the door, and found Erestor not very far away. He smiled as he walked past, but Erestor’s brow was furrowed and his expression grim. His arms were folded over his chest, and he did not smile back at Fingon.

“Was today a poetry day or a music day? I know we were going to do something creative,” said Fingon. He glanced up at Erestor so that it was obvious who he was addressing, as Glorfindel was also in the room. Whether or not Erestor spoke was evidence of how perturbed he was.

“I cannot recall,” came the terse answer.

Glorfindel stood at his easel nearby, but paused in his work to give Fingon an odd look. With his back to Erestor, he had not seen the expression. Glorfindel turned his head now, and then looked back at Fingon with one brow lifted.

Fingon turned fully toward Erestor. With his hands on his hips, he let the pause linger, and finally said, “Alright. I obviously fucked something up. What did I say or do in the last five minutes to bring about that scowl?”

Erestor’s expression softened, but only enough for the hurt to become obvious. He hesitated before he answered with a question of his own. “Why did you call her beautiful? I thought… I mean...”

“He thought you used that exclusively for him,” said Glorfindel when it seemed Erestor might not finish the thought. The longer the time spent together, the stronger their bond. When Erestor was upset, his thoughts were less guarded, and Glorfindel set his brush down. “He thought it was something special.”

Fingon walked to the couch and sat down before he beckoned for Erestor to follow. He patted the spot next to him as Erestor approached. Glorfindel smirked slightly as Erestor came closer and was pulled down by his wrist to sit upon Fingon’s knee. Fingon stroked Erestor’s hair and looked up at him while he considered his words. “When I say that word to you, it means something different to me than when I say that word to someone else. I did not mean to slight you, but I obviously did. I will strive in the future to use something else for when I speak to others, whether or not you are around.”

Erestor was already shaking his head before Fingon finished. “I am being jealous, and I should not. You can say whatever you want to other people.”

“No. I do not think that will make either of us happy, and you know that,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Erestor, still on his lap. “Look into my eyes, beautiful.” Fingon held his breath, and only released it when Erestor sighed and made eye contact. “Is jealousy truly what you are feeling?”

Erestor’s shoulders slumped a little. “A little.”

“What else is going on in that pretty, brilliant head of yours? Because a lot of something just happened, and I am calling bullshit on jealousy,” crooned Fingon in such a way that Erestor continued to relax. “All of the women I will love are already related to me,” he tried to joke. “Tell me what the problem really is, baby.”

“I just… I do not want you to give any of them any ideas.” Erestor looked away. “I trust you. I--”

“Tannarië is married.”

“Right. Still--” 

“She has three children,” piped up Glorfindel.

Erestor shot Glorfindel a contemptuous look. “I know that! I know.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I know. But I worry that someone is going to think you mean something else, and then get sweet on you, and then you take an interest, and… my mind wanders too much. I have a lot of ridiculous fears and I need to stop worrying about them.”

“Oh, sweetie. I meant nothing by it, but I see how you interpreted it as something else. That means others could do the same,” said Fingon. “I promise to be mindful from now on.”

Erestor groaned slightly. “I do not want to make you alter your vocabulary. This is making me feel like an idiot.”

“No,” argued Fingon gently. “You are not an idiot. You were feeling slighted, and I just threw around a word that has deeper meaning for you. I am sorry, Eres. There are a lot of adjectives in the world to convey what I want to say to other people. There is only one you.”

Erestor smiled and leaned down to kiss Fingon. “Save some of those other adjectives for me.”

“You can have all of the adjectives if you like. You are my beautiful one. You are so very special and dear to me.” Fingon took hold of one of Erestor’s hands and kissed it. “Always remember that, and always come to me when you feel I have wronged you.”

Erestor brushed aside a braid that hung in front of Fingon’s face. “You make it seem so serious…”

Glorfindel cleared his throat. “If you had seen your face, you would have known how serious you made it.” He looked to Fingon now and said, “This all reminds me of the years when Erestor was flirting with everyone except me, and pretended it was no big thing. The exception here is that you are taking it seriously, and he initially brushed it off.”

Fingon poked a finger at Erestor’s shoulder. “When were you flirting with everyone? Back in Rivendell? Or Gondolin?”

“Here,” offered Glorfindel as Erestor’s cheeks turned red. “Maybe not everyone. All of the women he could find, I think.”

“I was going to say… I mean, you knew me here for a long while, Erestor. If you were flirting ‘with everyone’ and you missed me, well, I would feel slighted. However - you have time to make up for that now.”

Erestor frowned. “But we are all married now.”

“Twenty years, but who keeps count?” asked Glorfindel as he picked up his brush.

Fingon gently eased Erestor off his lap so that they were side by side, and then Fingon was suddenly now in Erestor’s lap, straddling his hips, and looking down upon him. “All the more reason for it. I am a huge proponent for married people to flirt with each other - perhaps more than unmarried people!”

Erestor tended once again to the wayward braids. “I will strive to do better in the future.”

Fingon kissed Erestor again and said with a grin, “You better, beautiful.”


End file.
